She was always asking for things when she wasn't given any attention, although he didn't mind. He liked it in a weird way. He sat up from off of his thin-coat, of which he had been using as a pillow. "--Wait till you see how hot it is," he stated.

She chuckled.

He leaned over, pulling his bag through the dead-orange-needles of the pine-trees towards himself. He opened the zipper and reached in.

It was a Yeti -- A thermos that came with the bag. It felt heavy as he pulled it out--

Spoiler

"Ditch the vehicle," he said over the radio.

He sucked some breath through his teeth, picking up his Carbine from the ground.

He stood, beginning to make his way with a quick hustle to his squad.

'Past the gate,' he thought to himself -- He had to be careful, though, as the ground was uneven.

The gunfire was still present.

"I'm impressed," she responded, after letting the taste of the hot-coffee set-in.

He laughed, looking at her. "Right? I told you!"

She stared back and he was certain his heart skipped a beat. He released another chuckle. Hi hand found hers.

He didn't know what to do.

"Are you going to kiss me or what," she asked.

He did just that, pulling her body up--

Spoiler

The front of the drop-ship was struck, the shock-wave alone throwing him off balance. "Freeman," he yelped, the smoke beginning to billow into the air. He almost choked on his breath, standing.

The gun-fire didn't let-up. Stray rounds whizzed over his head.

He sprinted over their cover and to the exposed drop-ship before pulling the rear-emergency release. Sure enough, it opened with some British. The smoke poured out, and the flames from the cock-pit seemingly increased in size. He knew the pilots were dead... Surely...

The heat.

There he was, the bastard -- He reached under his arm-pits and began to pull him out.

He didn't know why he laughed.

---

The rifle jumped in his hand, kicking-him square in the shoulder. He grunted in pain.

"You got him," his father stated in shock, pointing.

He looked up and sure enough the bull laid there. Dead.

He felt guilty.

They stood and trudged over, not-saying a word to each-other.

When they got there his father put a hand on his shoulder.

".308 does hurt," he commented, looking at the Moose.

"Let's get a picture, Daniel."

Daniel felt incredibly guilty.

They stepped over the bull.

"Get the head-up onto your lap."

He grunted, lifting--

Spoiler

He propped his Carbine into his shoulder before firing off another burst.